Sorcerer's Pride
by TheMarauderBandit
Summary: Memories and secrets emerge as Dave, Balthazar, and Becky stumble across a young girl in a train station. What important secret has Balthazar been keeping from Dave? And how will it affect Balthazar's health? Rated T for mild language
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! I'm very glad I've finally finished this chapter, since it's been bothering me so much. I recently just discovered the movie the Sorcerer's Apprentice, and really, I loved it. As I was watching it for a second time (as I always do for movies I like), I thought up a character, and story plot. And I really like this one, so I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you will continue to read the following chapters that will be up soon. But until then, buon divertimento!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Characters are slightly AU.**

**Oh, and for anyone who likes Veronica, I'm sorry but she will not be a part of this story, as I did not originally plan it with her in it. She will however, be a major character in the next story I'm going to work on. So, enjoy this, and wait patiently for the next story. So sorry :P Oh, and please note that I do _not_ have an editor for this story, so any mistakes are my own, and if you point them out to me, I will kindly correct them. Thank you very much :)**

**~Bandit**

**(P.S. The italics are memories, and I'm sorry if it makes you dizzy. If you need me to, I can IM you the thing without the italics. Feel free to contact me, anyone, if you need anything) :)**

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><p>Sorcerer's Pride<p>

Chapter 1

It had been an easy trip, and that's all she was certain of. She couldn't trust the man she worked for, nor the people she socialized with. There was no one in her life she could rely on, but a single being, and she'd blown her chance with him. She wasn't certain of anything; whether the sun would rise in a day, or that she would get through another minute. As she listened to her footsteps ringing through the cement tunnel, she couldn't help the memories that flooded through her brain, in fact she welcomed them. They were a constant reminder that she still had reason to be alive, and that there was a reason she was walking around the icy, near-deserted train station, instead of at a friend's house, where it was nice and warm, where she could curl up in a ball next to a fire, and stay there forever. Even as she walked, she could feel intense rigors running through her, and she held back what would've been a vicious cough, her body aching with unnerving pains. She reached the stairway, and fingered the ring that rested peacefully on her pointer finger. She was glad she finally had it back, and was unpleasantly surprised at how cold it was. She rubbed it frantically, trying to get it to warm up some. Well, she figured there was at least one thing she was half-certain of. She was free.

How she'd come by the precious ring, was a different story entirely. In fact, it was not one she was really looking forward to telling in the future; nor was she exactly excited for thinking of. Not now. Not this time. Her eyes clouded, and she stopped in her tracks, remembering not how she'd retrieved the ring, but how she'd recently re-gained it again.

_A hooded figure strode certainly down the crowded streets of New York City, shoving gently past people, and ignoring the incredulous looks they were shooting her. She turned a sharp corner, turned around, and turned another, as if to throw off anyone following her off her trail. Before glancing around once more, she gently raised a hand to her forehead, before pointing it at the brick graffiti-covered wall in front of her. And suddenly, the rough drawings and foul words formed into a scene which looked like a dark park. Before glancing around her once more, the woman stepped towards the wall, letting it engulf her completely. A burning sensation ran through her, a feeling she couldn't help but smile at. Though it pained her greatly, the mere air of magic making her feel alive and merry. _

_She tried not to fall to her knees as she rapidly arrived at the usual meeting place, but failed horribly. She stood up, only her nose showing from the cloak covered the entire of her body. She kneaded her hands together, before crossing the soaked grass, grateful the rain had finally stopped. She passed through an orchard of trees, before a small, abandoned playground came into view. The haunting image sent shudders snaking down her back, though she should've grown used the eeriness ages ago. She stepped past the damp bark pieces and slides, towards a large oak tree that was placed in the middle of the grassy area of the park. The moon shown through the dark leaves to reveal a silhouette of a man, sitting on the ground, his legs crossed in a complicated puzzle position._

_"You will not lay a hand, nor spell on him. You will not kill him, nor injure him; mentally, physically, or emotionally. That was our deal," she called out as she neared the figure. He snapped his eyes open to reveal his icy blue orbs. Instantly the air seemed to freeze, and she found herself gasping for breath as she stared at him, her jaw set._

_"That was our agreement, yes, and I have not broken that promise in any form. I am a man of my word, you of all people should know that," he smiled slyly, coming out of the shadows to reveal himself, "Your voice is disguised, and I can't help but wonder why."_

_She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Old habit, I suppose." Though he also wore a cape, she could easily make out his young, sculpted, somehow demeaning, pale face, and his ragged, dark hair that hung down to cover his pointed ears. He was only a bit older than herself, and yet he was so much more powerful. And frightening._

_"You are awfully protective of your master, Cleo, and it's peculiarly intriguing," he purred, his eyes bright, as he motioned for her to sit across from him, and she willingly obliged. _

_"He's not my master anymore," she spat, "And, thought I hate to admit it, he's far too accident prone, and really, if any more were to happen to him at the moment, bad things would happen, Septimus, bad things."_

_"Since when have we been formal enough for you to call me 'Septimus'?" he chuckled lightly, and flashed an odd smile at her. _

_"You called me Cleo," she bantered back, "And besides, I've known you long enough."_

_"You are not a dark, not to mention extremely practiced sorcerer," his devious face lit up with excitement, "I have every right to shoot you out of the sky, and I most certainly have the right to call you by your first name. As you are not a masterful magical being, as I am, you do not hold that right."_

_Cleo scoffed, "The thing about that statement, is that you are not powerful, nor wholly dark. I am not intimidated by you. And I have every right as you, Septimus."_

_Septimus sighed, bringing his hands up towards he face to massage his head, "This conversation is growing old, Cleo. I'm afraid I'd like to do something else."_

_The girl stared steadily back at him, before slowly raising her hands, as if to welcome a small child. She forced herself to take deep breaths as the incantation ran through her head. She had to do this. She had to. She didn't have a choice. And then she muttered the words, gradually, yet eagerly, keeping her eyes trained on Septimus, and her concentration on only her actions. The ancient words rolled off her tongue, as though she spoke them as a natural language, as they always did, though the syllables were foreign to her. She felt her fingertips heat up, and they started to burn. Her throat grew raw, her eyes watered, and she felt her lungs contract. She felt paralyzed as Septimus's eyes grew wide as he realized what she was going to do. And then she thrust her hands out, and a strange force seemed hit her like an impeccably strong wind. And suddenly, Septimus crumpled to the ground, gasping for air._

_Cleo felt a fire light up inside her, and a grin spread across her face as she stood over the older of the two, her mouth open as she gaped at her handiwork. She knelt down next to the man, "I did it," she breathed._

_Septimus's eyes fluttered open, though he looked too weak to do anything, so Cleo let him speak. His face filled with curiosity, and he looked at her in wonder, "So there can be two."_

_"There is nothing prime about me, Tovaire," she murmured, looking at him, her eyes filled with pity, "And you know the real he is much better than I will ever be."  
><em>

_"You keep denying it," he choked out, "You're going to have to live with the fact that there is magic in your blood someday, Cleo."_

_"That's all it is," her eyes dimmed considerably, "just magic in my blood."_

_She watched as he slowly drifted away into unconsciousness, before crouching down, rocking back and forth on her heels. She reached forward, her lips pursed as she measured the situation, "I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, Sep," she plucked a rather large and awkward-looking ring off of his left hand, "But I'm going to have to take this back, as it is mine."_

_And within the second she clutched it in her hands, she slid it easily onto her own finger, and grinned at the fluttery feeling it gave her. She then raised the hand with the golden ring, and moved her arm in a circle movement, before cupping her hands, and raising them towards the sky. Septimus flew up towards the oak tree, and the branches snaked around the cover his body. Cleo bit her lip, before taking a sharp step towards the plant, before it erupted in flames. She studied the burning sapling for a moment longer, before turning in the other direction, and taking off towards the nearest alleyway before anyone caught her. _

Cleo smiled as she came back from her memories, and realized she was standing was standing in the same spot as before. She sighed, and glanced around her, glad she'd chosen this time of night to come to the train station. No one was taking a train at two in the morning. She stared down at her dark converse before, grabbing the rail, and starting down the large staircase. She was about halfway through her usually perilous trek, when she heard voices in the distance, coming closer. She froze, tensing up for an attacker out of habit. The voice came closer, and she was surprised she recognized one of them.

"Because, it would be too conspicuous. We don't want to attract the attention of regular humans. Explaining it to them, as I've said before, would be complicated. Things would get out of hand, and I'm not in the mood for talking to the press about why we were flying around town on a large, metal thing," three people came into view, but only one stood out to Cleo.

Her eyes widened as she recognized the brown hair with blonde streaks from too much time in the sun, the light eyes that were brightened by his slight insanity, and the ageless face, that had a quality that made Cleo shiver with admiration. Her jaw nearly hit the floor as she gaped. "Mast—Balthazar?" she muttered under her breath. If her suspicions were true, it had to be a dream. The scraggly hair was different, the last time she'd seen it, it was cut short, and pulled back from his face. He looked older, if it were possible, though she knew it wasn't. He was worn, and tired, and a heck of a lot more haunted than she'd ever seen him. But the same air that followed him around, the air of pride and arrogance that seemed to always be around him, gave him away, "It is you, Balthazar," she called louder, her heart fluttering about as her spirits lifted. What were the chances? She'd found him once again. And she'd waited a damn long time.

The man turned up at the sound of her voice, and she could tell the click of recognition in his expression as his brilliant mind turned, thinking out the possibilities. But she watched him shrug it off, and a slight grin, that he was trying to hide from the two teenagers standing behind him, slid onto his face. But then his eyes dimmed as he once again began to think. He squinted, and as the teenagers, who were hand in hand, didn't notice his abrupt stop, ran into him, he scowled. Cleo smirked, and shook her head in disbelief. The split-second these emotions had ran past his face, he saw her, and he didn't come running. He thought she wasn't real. But then again, she _was_ supposed to be dead. So she took liberty into her own hands.

She darted down the stairs, and nearly tackled Balthazar to the ground, her eyes watering with joy. Balthazar easily caught her, stopping himself from falling to the hard cement floor. He pulled her back and studied her some more. He tapped her shoulder, as if to see if she were real, "Cleo?" he gasped, "Are you real?"

"Do I look like I dare play another trick on you, Balthazar?" she smiled wanly at him, "Alive and in the flesh."

She caught sight of the two apparent lovers. The female was absolutely gorgeous, and Cleo couldn't help but grin at the blonde-haired girl. Her eyes were entrancing, though she was no a sorcerer, it was obvious she'd been exposed to magic by the fantastic quality she held. The other, however, was slightly disappointing. He looked no older than twenty, and was, to be generous, slightly unattractive. His dark hair fell back in complicated swoops, and his eyes a dull, dark color. Yet, as she continued to look him over further, her eyes fell upon the glorious, dragon ring that rested on his hand, as if he were born to wear it. And with a start, she realized he was. Merlin's blood ran through his veins.

Suddenly, she was bowing, her eyes boring into his shoes. She tried her hardest not to burst out laughing at the 'old man shoes'. The kid stared at her strangely, "Who are you and why are you bowing?"

Cleo snorted, "I am bowing because you are the Prime Merlinean. I respect you in many ways that no other sorcerer would. You saved the world, and therefore you are my savior, along with anyone else living on this dismal planet," she paused to take a deep breath, "As to who I am, that is not important in any way, but I will tell you anyways. My name is Cleo-Marie Noelle Elwer, and I am a fellow sorcerer."

With that statement, she turned once again to Balthazar. She stared steadily into the older man's suspicious eyes, and felt back all urges to hug him once again. She swallowed, "As for you, _Mister Blake_," she seemed disgusted at the words, but her eyes still lit up considerably, "Ask away, because I'm certain you have many questions."

Something flickered through the old sorcerer's eyes, and Cleo, knowing Balthazar, could only guess it was pain, "How long?"

This was the question Cleo'd been dreading the most, and her smile instantly disappeared. Why couldn't he have saved that one for last? She frowned, and took a sudden interest in her hands, which she was kneading together.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you," he mocked her gently. Balthazar may as well be Balthazar, but it wasn't going to change the truth. She might as well talk to him while she could.

"At least a year. Maybe a bit more," she choked out, her eyebrows furrowing, "And there's a reason I haven't told you yet. I-I thought you… I mean what were the chances of you being-."

"—In New York?" he snapped, acting as though he were pissed off at her, though the genuine concern burning in his eyes gave him away.

"Alive," she blurted out awkwardly. She could hear the two shift behind her. "I mean, knowing you Balthazar, there's always a good possibility you could be dead."

"Wait, how do you know her?" the Prime Merlinean called out. Cleo turned on her heel and considered him.

"Dave," so that was his name, "That is information you do not need to be aware of," Balthazar scolded him crossly.

"I lost my master at a young age," okay, so it was the half-truth, "Balthazar helped me out when I was in trouble, that's all," that might have been stretching it a bit. Cleo sent Balthazar an apologetic look.

Dave opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a sudden, harsh-sounded cough coming from Cleo's mouth. She doubled over, but instantly straightened herself up, and sent Balthazar a 'don't-discuss-it' look. All color drained form her face, and it was suddenly clear to everyone, that there were plain, grey, unflattering streak littering what should've been Cleo's natural, pure red hair.

Balthazar stepped forward and gently eased a strand of hair away from her, studying it gently. He made an 'hmm' sound and let the piece fall back into place, "So it still pains you then."

She gave a small growling sound, "Yes, it _does_ pain me. A lot. But I don't want to likes of _you_," she shoved a bony finger into his chest with enough force he stumbled backwards a bit, "to be worried. It was _my_ decision and my decision _only_. Oh, and before you ask, I destroyed the incantation, and whatever you do to me, I will _never give it back_. Are we understood, _Balthazar_?"

A fire seemed to light around her as spoke, and Dave stepped forward, "What's going on, Balthazar? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing of your concern, Dave. Just leave us be, and stay out of it. This doesn't involve you," Balthazar snapped, his eyes igniting with the same flame as Cleo's.

"Oh have some sympathy on the poor boy," Cleo joked, "Give him some leeway, he's just a kid."

"How old are you?" David gaped, "I mean," he spluttered.

Cleo smiled kindly, "Twenty-three, though I'm three years older than you, so I have every right to call you kid," she winked at him.

"I will _not_ have you distracting my apprentice," Balthazar returned his attention to the short, pale redhead in front of him.

Cleo snorted at that, "Alright, I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but notice you're acting as though you have power over me. It's _quite_ disturbing," she replied dryly.

Balthazar was obviously taken aback, "I _do_ have power over you."

"Since when, _old man_?"

The sorcerer glanced at David, hesitated, and turned away.

"You're acting rather immature about this Balthazar, and I'm _sure _you expected this time to come at least once in your lifetime, hmm?" she commented shrewdly.

Balthazar opened his mouth to banter back, when a train suddenly appeared out of no where, chugging along on it's tracks. "Mind if I tag along?" she smiled at the three.

"Of course not," the blonde rushed out hurriedly, as if afraid Balthazar and Dave would say no.

Cleo smiled warmly, "I'm sorry, but I seemed to have missed your name."

"Becky," she shook Cleo's outstretched hand, "I'm Dave's boyfriend."

Cleo raised her eyebrows at Dave and grinned toothily, "That's wonderful. I'm so glad you two are happy."

They all clambered onto the train, Balthazar and Cleo avoiding each other's harsh glares. Halfway through the trip to the lab, Dave cornered Cleo against a wall.

"Well, well, David, taking things a little fast aren't we?" she teased, "I mean, I've only just met you."

Dave sighed, "What is up with you and Balthazar? And don't tell me that it's confidential, and only he has the right to know, because I'm his apprentice, and I need to know everything about him that I can, since he's not exactly willing to share everything about his past."

How much could have changed in the few years she was gone? When she'd known Balthazar… he'd been willing to share anything she asked him about, "I wasn't planning on it, Dave. In all truth, as I said, I knew him long before you knew him. We've had a past, and it's not exactly a cheerful one. I'm the one not willing to share here, because there's nothing to share. He took me in for a couple of days, and we would randomly bump into each other. That's it."

Dave studied her carefully, as if to see if she was telling the truth, "Then tell me more about yourself."

"Like what," Cleo fiddled with her sleeve.

"Like why your hair is grey," This kid obviously didn't think before he spoke.

"Now that, is strictly confidential. That is something that bothers me, and I'm not willing to tell you not only for your own sake, but for everyone else's as well."

"Then tell me other things," he didn't push much, and she was glad. She wasn't in the mood for a big sob story.

"Like what?" she repeated, irritation masking her voice.

"Like how you were separated from your master."

She felt a twinge of pain. They were meandering back in the direction of a sob story, "There was this guy, and he was fascinated in me. We tried to kill me and torture me, and eventually, he captured my master. He threatened to kill my master if I didn't turn myself in. So, I did, freeing my master."

"You'd risk your life for your master like that?" Dave's eyes widened.

"I'm sure you'd do the same thing for Balthazar in less than a heartbeat," she replied crisply, "And it wouldn't be the first time I've saved my masters life. I'm the only reason he's still alive, and I still am."

"So what happened?" though it'd been a short version, she could tell Dave was fascinated in a sick way.

"I was supposedly killed, and I never saw my master again," she sighed, and adverted her eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Wait… what? You never saw him again?"

"Look, kid, if you want a happy ending, go watch a Disney movie or something. This is real life. Deal with it."

"But why would you sacrifice yourself like that, even if you knew you were never going to see him again?" Dave was still trying to process the whole thing. Cleo smirked.

"Well I was never going to see him again either way," she replied dryly, willing the tears that were bound to fall to stop, "And besides," she cracked a smile, "I always like to think of it as repaying him. He's saving my life too many times to count, and for him, likewise."

"Well, was he a good teacher?" Dave stepped back, and leaned against the opposite wall of the cart.

Cleo folded her arms, "I guess you could say that," she stared off into the distance, a cloudy looking forming over her hazel eyes, "He was the most powerful sorcerer I ever knew. With a single blow, he could defeat the most intimidating or strong Morganian out there. He was kind, yet reckless. He was quiet, yet amazing. He was beautiful in his own way."

"So that's why you sacrificed yourself?"

Cleo nodded silently, "I knew the world would be better off with him alive, rather than me alive."

Suddenly a dark, haunting look passed over her sculpted face. She opened her mouth slowly, and gave a huge, depressed sigh, "I've been lying to you, Dave."

"What…?" he started, and gaped at her.

"I did see my master again. That's all. Everything else is true, I swear," she reassured him. Sometimes college students were so predictable.

"Well, who's your master then?" he glanced up at her, "I'm sure you can afford to tell me."

She studied her hands for a second, then pursed her lips, and sighed once again.

"Balthazar Blake."

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><p><strong>AN: You gotta love cliffies on the first chapter of the story, they're great :) Just kidding. Anyways, moving on. Please review, since not only does it make me happy and keep me writing, but it also feeds my muse, Andrew :) And we wouldn't want Andrew to get hungry, now would we? ;) Anyways, thanks for reading, and your wait shouldn't be too long! :)**

**Happy writing and reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, sorry for the belated update (yes I _did_ just say belated), but I haven't been able to touch my computer this entire week, and therefore I've been writing this from my kindle and old computer that doesn't work very well. And on top of that, I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are mine. Anyways, you get to take another look in Cleo's memories, except for this one reveals more than I'd hoped it would. But oh well, hope you enjoy. Buon divertimento!**

**I only own Cleo.**

**And this is not terribly in character, so sorry if I messed it up. I'll try harder next time ;)**

**~Bandit(:**

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><p>Sorcerer's Pride<p>

Chapter 2

"But I thought everyone Balthazar surrounded himself with were bad liars," was all Dave managed to splutter out as he stared incredulously at Cleo. The older of the two couldn't help but burst out in laughter at his statement. Her hazel eyes twinkled, and she gave him a huge grin.

"I am a bad liar, Dave," she breathed out another small chuckle, "Just compared to you, I'm a master at it."

He didn't seem the least bit offended, and she knew why; he took pride in his inability to fib. Damn, that kid look up to Balthazar. Almost as much as she did, "Why didn't he tell me he had another apprentice?"

She shrugged, and kneaded her hands together, "I guess he didn't want to bring up painful memories. It's not so much me he'd be worried about, but the memories that kind of just tagged along with me. I'll a living, breathing nostalgic, horrible reminiscence bringer."

"I'm sure you're not that bad," suddenly, Dave froze, and his face turned slightly disturbed, "But wait, if you are his apprentice, then how am I the-?"

"Don't think too much on it, Dave," she stepped forward and placed a gently hand on his shoulder, "There will come a time for the answers. Unfortunately, as you should expect, now is not that time."

"Will there ever be a time?" Smart kid. "I mean, will you _ever_ tell me? Will you ever remember to tell me some day?"

"You couldn't possibly expect me to remember on my own, _could_ you? You'd of course have to remind me. But I will, Dave, I _will_. I give you my word," she cracked a smile at him, "I guess we'd better be getting back to Becky and Balthazar," she pulled a face, "Tongue twister."

Dave laughed out loud, "We've known you for fifteen minutes, aside from Balthazar, of course, and yet you act as though you know everyone so well."

Cleo detached herself from the train wall, "I don't think Becky likes Mister_ Blake_ too much," she winked at the kid to let him know she was teasing, "Though I'm sure Balthazar's perfectly fine with keeping his distance. I just wanna make sure they haven't sliced each other's throats yet."

Dave choked out a small laugh, his own eyes shining, and the nervous expression he'd been wearing fading away as he joined her laughter. Cleo felt a sense of relief wash over her, and she met his eyes, and nodded. Dave reached out his hand to her, a knowing expression charming his features, "Nice to meet you, Cleo." Without a word, the girl took his hand, and grinned, not even bothering to question his antics, because she already knew his reason; he'd accepted her.

Not even a whole half-hour, and she'd already charmed him. She knew she had a strange affect on people, that's why it was such a reprieve to be around Balthazar; he was one of the only human beings she knew who was not effected by her wittiness and sense of humor. Whatever respect he held for her, she'd earned on her own. It was good to have a solace sometimes. Even for her.

"Alrighty, Dave, you lead the way, I'm not very good with remembering directions," she motioned for him to depart first, and blinked innocently up at him, "And unfortunately, I cannot remember the way back to our car."

Dave gave what seemed like an annoyed sigh, though she could see through his façade, and she knew he was playing, "I guess we're going to have to."

"Sometime," she pulled a funny face, and followed him down the long train. When they finally did arrive to the car, without getting lost, they were met with a semi-pleasing scene. Neither Becky, nor Balthazar was dead. Meaning they hadn't tried to kill each other. It was always a real good crowd-pleaser. But, they were still shooting death-glares at each other, but at least it wasn't as bad as they'd expected.

"Balthazar," she coughed awkwardly, when the sorcerer showed no signs of softening his gaze. She bit her lip as he whipped his head to look at her, "I told him."

Balthazar was on his feet and facing her in a second, "You what?" his blue eyes widened, and he stared at her grudgingly. "I thought you had that type of thing called, keeping secrets?"

"It's better this way. I mean, telling him know is better than lying to him. He was going to figure it out sometime, and you knew that," Cleo said simply, holding back snickers.

"Guys?" David piped up, one of his eyebrows cocked, "You know I'm hear right?"

Cleo ignored him, "And besides, he wanted to know, and I couldn't decline, because, honestly, why would I waste my time lying, when I could just tell the truth? It's not going to hurt him, and it's certainly not going to _kill_ you," she rushed out, her face lighting up.

"How do you know it's not going to kill me?" Balthazar started, his eyes shining, "I mean, you're so intent on protecting me, and if you're so worried about me dying, wouldn't you care to know if this were going to kill me?"

"Because I know _you_, Balthazar Blake," she chuckled, "And you're not the type to just drop dead because I told someone I used to be your apprentice. You're one of the strongest people I've met, so I'm sure we'll both be fine. And besides, do you _always_ have to be a stubborn bastard?"

A smile graced his lips, "Yes, I do. It's kind of a Blake thing. Runs in the family."

Cleo buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter, "Of course it is. Same as the protectiveness is kind of an Elwer thing. Too bad I won't be able to pass it along. It's quite a good trait."

"Oh come on, Cleo, the train is going to be arriving soon, and I'd like to at least have one moment when we're not arguing. Could you do me that little favor?" Balthazar's voice was literally dripping with exasperation.

"Stop provoking me, and maybe I will, Master," she muttered as he turned away back to his seat.

He suddenly spun around, an angry look in his eyes, "Do I look like your master anymore?" he demanded.

Cleo was taken aback at Balthazar's abrupt fury, and by Dave's intake of breath she could tell she wasn't the only one, "Well, if you cut the hair a little, maybe. You also look a little more… worn; I guess you could call it that," in all truth, no matter how cheeky she appeared, she was terrified. The last time she'd seen Balthazar this angry hadn't ended very well.

Balthazar simply rolled her eyes at her, and sat back down, the anger seeming to subsiding, but Cleo could tell something was on his mind. She swallowed, and looked at Dave guiltily, her mind churning. She then motioned towards the sorcerer, indicating that Dave should sit by him instead of her, since the rest of the conversation wasn't going to finish sound, and they were sure to talk about it if she were to join Balthazar. She instead plopped down by Becky, smiling peacefully at her, not allowing Dave the choice.

"Master?" Becky muttered towards the redhead, her eyebrows furrowed.

"A long time ago," Cleo grinned, "And probably never again, since I'm very nearly fully trained."

"Really?" Cleo could tell the whole magic thing sparked her interest, "I mean, how long ago?"

"Well, I first became his apprentice when I was fourteen, but I met him when I was eleven. And then he taught me for four years… But it's all very complicated, so I'd say ten years. At least," Cleo sighed, full of memories, "But I'm sure you don't want to listen to the whole thing. It's quite boring, isn't it?"

"Actually, I find it really cool," Becky's eyes shone, and she leaned back in her seat, motioning for Cleo to proceed. "I mean, not only the whole magic thing, but the entire history, and just everything."

Cleo arched her eyebrows, "Are you saying I'm interesting?" She couldn't hide the disbelief in her voice.

"Well, I guess so, yes," Becky met her eyes.

Cleo chuckled, "Now that's new. I've never been really, interesting, but I guess I could tell you if I wanted to," this statement earned a laugh from Becky. Cleo smiled.

_~X-X-X~_

_Sirens wailed along the long dark streets, and rained shot down to the ground like bombs. The alleys between the dismal, crumbling buildings were flooded with people. There were many civilians dressed in dark colors, with horrible looks upon their faces, but only one stood out in the large. The girl had bright, red hair, which stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the other brunettes. Though she was young, smaller than most the criminals, a certain wisdom flickered in her brown, merciless eyes. She strode around, an arrogant way to her gait, yet her hairstyle, which came over her face, almost completely covering it, suggested she was scared, and almost timid._

_As the girl continued her trek, shoving past people, she couldn't help but feel roughly exposed. Without the ring, her sole source of power, she had no way of protecting herself, nor any way to attack. She was left alone, neglected, deserted, with no one by her side. But it wouldn't have been the first time. The eleven-year-old Cleo tensed up as people called her foul names, and spat at her feet, but she'd grown far too used to the beggars and bandits, and instead just ignored them, keeping her eyes on the store she really wanted to pay attention to. _

_Even as thunder started to roll, and crash like an explosion igniting around her, Cleo didn't flinch. Loud sounds weren't a novel concept for her. She continued, her hands jammed into her jean pockets, her mind roaming as she sniffled, and ducked her head as people glowered. Reminding herself that she was there on the awful street for a reason, she turned down yet another horrible alleyway. _

_And then, someone gently shoved past her. She turned to scowl at the stranger, as she always did, but she was caught frozen in her spot. She furrowed her eyebrows. The man was walking away, but he had a magical air to him. And, she was glad to discover, she wasn't the only odd one her. She blinked a couple of times. The man was wearing some sort of odd trench coat, and had long, scraggly hair, but his back was to her. He was walking away, and with a slight twinge, Cleo realized she didn't want him to go. But, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, something green shining, despite the gloominess. She knelt to examine it closer, and realized it was a ring. He must've dropped it._

_The man was a sorcerer._

_It was beautiful, made out of what looked to be silver, shaped in the form of a dragon. A single, emerald-green jewel was placed in the center of the dragon's scaly back. Cleo fingered it, deciding whether to let her thieving instincts kick in, or let the other, unknown side of her take over. She stood, not daring to pick it up, and called, "Excuse me, sir, you've dropped something!" _

_The sorcerer turned at once, his blue eyes shining with what seemed to be deep emotion. A sting of recognition burst inside her, but she could've sworn she'd never seen him before. He started making his way towards her, and convinced that he was coming, Cleo knelt down to pick it up for him. But as soon as she cupped it into her hands, it came alive before her eyes, and wrapped itself around her finger. She gaped, and looked up at the man who was standing above her. _

"_U-u-u-h," she spluttered out. She'd never seen magic like this before, "I think this yours, mister."_

_Her breath was taken away as she studied the foreigner. Her assurances were taken away. She had seen him before. But where? She lifted her hand up towards him, and noticed him flinch, and her eyebrows furrowed. His face was pale, pale even for the cool weather, and just below his neck, where his collar dipped off, were horrible-looking scars. Cleo winced as realization struck her, and her hand started shaking hard. She adverted her eyes, blinking back tears._

"_Keep it," his voice was like silk, and as she glanced up again, he was off, racing away, pushing past people. She looked back down at the ring, and then once again up at the man to gape at him, but he had already disappeared._

_~X-X-X~_

"You mean, he has scars?" Becky shot a fleeting glance at the old sorcerer, who was absorbed in his conversation with Dave, "And—and he just gave you the ring? Just like that?"

Cleo looked down, "Yeah," she chuckled, "Just like that."

"How many scars did he have? I mean, do you even know what they're from?" Cleo could tell Becky now held a different respect for Balthazar.

Cleo closed her hands into fists, and pressed them against her mouth, "I don't know. But—they—they must've hurt. A lot."

"This is bothering you, isn't it?" Becky asked apologetically, her eyes dimming.

"A little bit, yeah," Cleo bit her lip, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Becky chuckled, "I'm just curious you know?"

Cleo laughed as well, as Becky turned away to look out her dark window. As soon as she wasn't looking, Cleo unclenched her hands, and glanced at the deep gashes she'd caused when her nails had broken her skin in her nervousness. She glanced at the blood trickling slowly down her wrists, and pressed a hand to the bridge of her nose, and willed herself to not cry. She couldn't. It was a pride thing. But she couldn't help her shoulders shaking, her eyes watering, nor her lips trembling. Why did memories _always_ do this to her?

* * *

><p>"Alright," Balthazar pushed her down the stairs, making her race down them, towards the center of the lab floor, "Talk."<p>

Cleo composed herself, catching her balance, and putting her hands on her hips. She spun on her heel, so she was facing the elder sorcerer, and gave him a tight look, "Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Why did he let you go?" he turned, and started to pace. Cleo stood in the same position, her eyes burning into the back of Balthazar's head.

"He didn't," she muttered, hoping he wouldn't hear. But he did.

"Care to elaborate?" he turned once again, his eyebrows arched, his lips drawn into a straight line.

"I attacked him," Cleo swallowed with difficulty, "I mean, I escaped his… grasp."

His face pulled into one of deep thought as he tried to figure out her words, "You mean he gave the ring back? Why would he do _that_?"

Cleo was slightly hurt that he though the only way she could've escaped was if he returned her precious ring, "No," she hissed, "He _didn't_ give it back."

Balthazar was taken aback, "You mean…?"

"Yes," she snapped, and turned away, biting her bottom lip, "I did ringless magic. What's the big deal?"

"Without a ring, a sorcerer is powerless. You _know _that," Balthazar furrowed his eyebrows. He was met with silence as Cleo thought. Unbeknownst to both of them, Dave sat hiding in the cool, dark shadows of the lab, taking in every word with certain interest. This Cleo person intrigued him. He didn't know what it was, but he wanted to learn more about her. And even as he crouched in the darkness, he couldn't help but wonder how powerful she really was. And how had she been able to do ringless magic? Dave thought only the Prime Merlinean could do that.

"Well I guess you…" the young girl was about to fire back a rude comeback, but thought better of it. Hadn't she just rediscovered her savior? Why would she want to upset him more than she already had? She spun around, and glanced up at him apologetically, "just taught me well enough."

"I didn't teach you the adapting part, remember?" the sorcerer met her gaze with a small smile.

"I'm pretty sure I remember, Master," she clapped his right shoulder gently, her eyes twinkling as well.

As soon as her hand made contact with his shoulder, he let out a small yelp, his happy expression contorting into pain. Cleo jumped back several feet, her hands covering her mouth, her hazel eyes wide with fright and distress. "Oh my god, Balthazar, oh god, oh god, oh god. I'm _so_ sorry… Did I hurt you bad?"

He himself had placed his own hand on his shoulder, and was holding it, wincing every now and then, "You only just tapped it, and it's not too bad."

Her voice was shaky, and memories ran through her mind. Get those thoughts out, Cleo-Marie, get them out. Now! "B-but still."

He stepped forward and kissed her forehead, holding her face with both of his hands, "You're fine, Cleo. Let's get you home, you look tired. You, of all people, _know_ what tired can do to you."

She smiled weakly, and took a sudden interest in her shoes, "My house? Tovaire let me stay there while I was his… let's say prisoner. And I think it'd be better than Dave's place, since Bennet lives there… Doesn't he Dave?" she called out into the darkness, and smiled when she heard a muffled curse. She exchanged knowing glances with Balthazar, before they both burst out laughing.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, for any of you wondering... I know Cleo has hazel eyes, and there _is_ a reason I made her eyes brown in the flashback. And I know she does have random mood swings, but she's a twenty-three year old, so give her a break(: I have no idea what I'm going to do for the next chapter, so if you have any ideas, please share ;) And please review! I keeps me motivated, and it makes me happy! :)**

**Thanks to anyone who read or alerted this story. You guys are awesome(:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, hey, this is my next chapter! I realize I'm being a little sluggish on the updating, but my brother has been taking my laptop to all his speech tournaments, so I've barely gotten to see it this week! Next week I'll be sure to get back on schedule. Anyways, buon divertimento!**

**Characters are slightly AU**

**~Bandit**

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><p>Sorcerer's Pride<p>

Chapter 3

It was a long time before Cleo woke up, and when she finally did, the sunlight was pouring through her windows like liquid brightness, and the birds had just began to chirp their familiar song. The young girl ignored her aches and pains as she clambered out of bed, and out into the hall, not even bothering to get ready yet. Though Balthazar was not yet awake, she knew he would be soon. She quickly scuttled around the familiar rooms, it was her apartment after all, and finally entered the kitchen area, which overlooked the living room.

She thoroughly scanned the kitchen, opened a few cupboards, even peeked in the fridge. But everything was there, and yet she was still stalling. She'd lived on her own since she was nine, and was nearly a master at the art of preparing food. Yet, she was far too hesitation than she'd always been. Why was she scared to cook for her master? Though she'd only cooked breakfast for Balthazar once before, she knew what he'd want. Anything other than oatmeal, and something to do with tea.

She smiled at her contemplations, before moving around the kitchen, knowing where everything was in order to make it for him. It was only six-thirty, and she knew he'd be up soon. Especially if he'd been up late thinking. Which she knew he had. Because he wasn't the only one.

She'd spent all of her night in her study room, sitting at a desk, poring over her Incantus. She'd just finished the elemental spells, her favorite part, when she fell asleep. It was no surprise to see her drowsy, she almost always was, and it was certainly no shock for her especially. She was at peace, what with knowing for certain Balthazar was safe. Though she'd protected him for Septimus, up until now, she knew there were other, stronger enemies out there that would do anything to get their hands on Balthazar. Morgana was one of them, the strongest Morganian out there. Or was, since she'd heard Dave totaled her easily. But Horvath would be less merciless. She was sure he'd be out searching for Balthazar for ages. And her mother. She'd be after, not only Cleo, but the old sorcerer as well. He did take her away from her mother.

Well, she fell asleep, and apparently Balthazar had done quite the opposite, because about an hour before she was carried away in her thoughts, and into slumber, Balthazar had meandered his way out of the guest bedroom. And apparently he'd found her study, because he'd tenderly woken her by rubbing her back in slow, wide circles, and had led her gently across the hall towards her own bedroom. She was too tired to thank him when he tucked her in, and gave her what was the second kiss to the forehead that night. All she knew is that he'd fallen asleep by the time she woke up, because she could still hear him, faintly, in the background snoring.

A grin found its way on her lips, and she quickly began to fry up some eggs. Not soon after the sizzle of the frying pan started to fill the house, did Balthazar enter the room, fully prepared and dressed for anything. Cleo glanced over and smiled. Dang, he'd even combed his hair. She quickly dumped the contents of the pan onto two plates, and balanced them on both hands, before placing them on the small round table that sat in what she liked to call the 'dining' room.

She quickly directed Balthazar towards one of the seats, and met his glance with a chuckle, "Sorry it's not a gourmet breakfast, but I'll make pancakes next time."

"You didn't have to make anything at all," he raised any eyebrow, "I wasn't planning on you cooking. Since when did you cook?"

"I've cooked for you before, Balthazar, stop trying to make things awkward," she gave him a flat look, "And besides we couldn't risk going out to eat, or ordering anything, so I just figured I'd make something."

He made a small 'humph' sound, and speared a sausage with his fork, "This doesn't look healthy."

"Balthazar," she snapped, "I made tea."

His eyes lit up, and she knew he was sold, "Oh, this is fantastic," it was obvious he didn't really care for the actual food; all he really wanted was the hot liquid.

She grinned at him, and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Both were out of their seats in seconds, their eyes trained on the door. "Someone's got to answer it," she muttered.

"It could be Septimus," he whispered frantically back.

"Don't worry, I got you," she met his eyes, and gave him a nervous smile.

"You answer it," he replied childishly.

"Why don't we both?" at that, he nodded, and they strode forward in unison. Cleo, however, was the one that unlocked the door, and threw it open, her ring pointed directly at the person standing in the doorway.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's just me. Calm down, it's just me," Dave slid through the doorway, and into the apartment. "What's up with the threatening ring thing?"

"You need to announce it's you," Balthazar scolded him as Cleo quickly shut the door, after glancing around outside to make sure no one followed Dave.

"We just about had a war back there on who was gonna open the door," Cleo plopped down on the couch, abandoning her breakfast.

"And you won?" he turned towards Balthazar, "No surprise there."

"We both lost," he said blankly, before pulling one of the dining chairs from the table, and sitting in it.

"Nice attire, Cleo," he smiled at the girl.

She looked down at her pajamas, and flushed, "I didn't know you knew such a big word, Davey."

"College student," he shrugged, and they both laughed.

"I'll go change," she got up, and began down the hall, "Don't manage to get killed while I'm gone, okay?"

"Balthazar, you can't really expect me to train? I have some huge tests next week, and I've already mastered my powers. Come on, I defeated Morgana, isn't that enough?" Cleo couldn't help but smirk at the unknowingness tone of the pitiful whine that rang down the hallway as she made her way back towards the living room. Of course it was Dave.

"Dave, just because you've fought one person-."

"Who was going to destroy the earth," Dave cut in to what was sure to be an extra-long Balthazar speech.

"Doesn't mean you've mastered the ring, and it certainly doesn't mean we have to stop training," the old sorcerer began, "And you're no where near the level of sorcery as I am."

"Yes, well you're Balthazar," Dave spluttered out, "No one's near the level of sorcery you are."

Balthazar raised an eyebrow, "I still have much to learn, Dave. I've been living for many centuries, and I still haven't learned all I can from the art of sorcerery."

"Balthazar's right," Cleo piped up. They both spun around wildly to look at her. Dave pulled a face.

"I hate when mother takes father's side," Dave smirked at her, placing a hand to his mouth.

Cleo's eyes flashed dangerously, and she growled, "Call me 'mother' again, and I will rip your head off."

The threatening state earned a knowing chuckle from Balthazar, signaling to Dave that she meant it, and he better not go there again. He raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly. "Balthazar is right _because_ although you have defeated a strong Morganian, there are still many more out there, not as a strong, or maybe intimidating, but never underestimate the power of a Morganian. They thrive on power, revenge, and pain, and these are the things that will tear you down. Not their ability to use a little ring."

"Then why am I learning to use a little ring?" Dave threw up his hands in exasperation. Cleo snorted.

"Because you do not thrive on power, revenge, or pain, do you Dave? Your power comes solely from your instinct to help innocent civilians and the crisis of a friend in need," Balthazar paced as he spoke, stroking the underside of his stubbly chin. Dave nodded, his eyes saying a million things, but his lips not moving. Cleo was surprised how like Balthazar he was.

"And besides, you need to work on focusing and controlling your power. If your magic comes only when a friend, or someone you care about, is in danger, than we have a problem. Sure, it's a good thing, but you also need to be able to use that strong power I'm sure you had while battling Morgana, everytime you fight someone. If the safety of the world was resting on your shoulders, you would run and hide. That's not a question, Dave, don't answer," she pointed a stern finger at him, "But if it were, say, _Balthazar's safety_ resting on your shoulders, you could easily knock out ten Morganians. It's a fact, and we need to work on that."

Dave plopped down on the couch, taking in her wise words. Cleo turned towards Balthazar, who was now behind her, relaxing against the counter. "How old are you?" he suddenly burst out, "I mean, if you're only twenty-three than there's no way you could've been Balthazar's apprentice ten years ago, like you claim. Then you'd be thirteen, and you said you were fourteen. Are you lying to me again?"

"Yes and no," she raised her hand in a half-and-half symbol, "I am really, let's say," she turned towards Balthazar for approval, "One hundred and seventy-nine," she turned again towards the sorcerer, "And a quarter."

A grin was earned from Cleo as Dave gaped at her, "But how is that possible? Did Balthazar set a spell on you, or something?"

"Oh, no, no, no. It was my mother. At my birth, she cast a 'Slow-Aging' spell on me. It's much different than Balthazar's, where he's been living for like, ever. I will someday die. Whether of natural causes, or at the hand of a Morganian. Balthazar will never die. I don't think," she replied simply. "If I were to die of natural causes, which is very unlikely, it would probably another hundred years into the future. Give or take a little."

He still gaped, "But if you're slow aging, does that affect the age of your body? Like right now your hair is graying, and your skin is yellow, and you look horrible. Is that the affects of the Slow-Aging spell?

Cleo's mouth formed into a tight line, and Balthazar stopped his laughing instantly, his eyes growing cold, "No," she snapped, "No, this is not the effects of the Slow-Aging spell."

Dave's eyes instantly widened in realization, "Oh."

The red-head turned towards Balthazar, and he sent her a solemn, sympathetic look. She turned back to Dave and smiled at him reassuringly.

_~X-X-X~_

_"Get out! Get out of my house, damn it!" A young Cleo-Marie stumbled out onto the neglected streets of Tacoma, Washington. Her mother gave her a disgusted look, before throwing several knives and broken beer bottles at her. She fell against the opposite wall, throwing her arms up to protect her face. As soon as her mother slammed the door closed, Cleo stood, and brushed the little pieces off her jeans and sweatshirt. She looked around, relieved that no one was there, she hated it when people saw her mother's abuse, and started off towards the main streets. As she stepped out onto the trashed asphalt, she couldn't help but notice a man following her. She glanced behind, and took a good look at him. He had long, messy dark hair, and a chilling look to him. And yet, he seemed ageless. By the looks of him, he was Morganian, but his intentions were not for the best. No Morganian helped another Morganian. She picked up her pace, shoving past people, not caring if they fell to the ground, or if they shouted curse words at her. She wanted to get away from this man._

_Tacoma was always packed with people, especially this time of day, and more than half of them were drunks, trying to blend in with the other crowd of people, but their stumbling gave them away, and it also slowed Cleo down. Even a few police men strode around with a hand on their gun, which she knew they were always eager to use. Even a few children stood lounging around, but most of them were either way older or way younger than her. As she looked back once again, she rubbed her hand, assuring that the dragon ring, the only one that worked properly for her, was still there. She picked up the pace, hoping she'd never have to use it. In her haste, however, she passed the store she had set out to find, and ended up ramming right into someone. _

_She stumbled back a few steps, and let out a small screech. She covered her mouth, and looked up at the person. Relief washed over her, and she let her hands fall from her mouth. She then spun around, breathing hard, and noticed the Morganian, as soon as he spotted the person, had stopped, and ran away. She smiled, and turned back, looking up at the stranger, "I still have your ring, sir," she held up her hand to show him, "Want it back?"_

_The man heaved a great sigh, and grabbed her upper arm, "This is not the place to talk," he replied patiently, weaving through the crowds at a wicked pace._

_"Wait, what?" she easily fell into step with him, prying his fingers off of her arm, "Do you want it back or not?"_

_"I want you to be my apprentice," he didn't even look at her, he kept his bright eyes on the crowd. Cleo, however, gaped at him._

_"You, uh," she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Let me get this straight… You want me to be your apprentice? Me?" they pulled into a small alleyway, and he turned on her._

_He blinked at her, and raised an eyebrow, "You are a very talented, and powerful sorcerer. I would hate to see such capability go to waste."_

_Her eyes widened more, "Do you even realize who I am? I am Cleo-Marie Noelle Elwer. Elwe-."_

_"Yes, yes," he snapped impatiently, "And I am Balthazar Blake. Now can we get on with this."_

_"But I don't think you actually recognize me," she folded her arms, "My mother is Helia Dahlia Kent. She—she's killed millions!"_

_Suddenly his face went a deathly serious, and his voice was grim, "Don't think I don't recognize you. I know perfectly well that you and your mother are both Morganians, and the bad things you have done. I forgive you."_

_Her eyes were sad, "Even if I did want to be your apprentice, there's no way I could be. My mother would catch on. She'd be very mad. And don't think I don't know who _you_ are, Mister Blake. I know you're a Merlinean."_

_He shushed her quickly, "Don't speak that aloud. Do you know how many riots that could start?"_

_Cleo stared at him incredulously, "There's no one around!"_

_"How many people do you think are listening in on our conversation?" he snapped, and held the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to be calm. It was so hard, "We are never safe in this town."_

_"Speaking of which," she arched her eyebrows, "How did you know I was here?"_

_"Let's move," he led her back out towards the teeming streets, "The ring," he pointed towards it, "It has a tracking device."_

_She snorted sarcastically, "That's great."_

_Suddenly, Balthazar stopped and whirled around, "How old are you?"_

_She furrowed her eyebrows at the seemingly odd question, "Almost fourteen."_

_"That's strange," he muttered, before they started to walk side by side once more. "I could've sworn…"_

_"So, what's so special about this key?" she hushed him, and glanced down at the beautiful quality of the silver dragon, "I mean… why give it to me? And why were you so eager to find me?"_

_"I know this is going to sound strange, considering you're a Morganian," he sucked in the stale air through his teeth, "But you have to defeat Morgana."_

_"Come again?"_

_"You're the Prime Merlinean," he sighed, and looked into her dark eyes, "You're the world's only chance."_

_Cleo suddenly tensed up, breathing becoming more and more difficult. Her? The Prime Merlinean? It was impossible. Her mind was turning, she couldn't believe this. Was this man just pulling tricks on her? Maybe it was all just a practical joke. Maybe her mother was doing this to simply laugh at her gullibility. _

_She was just about to turn towards Balthazar once again to demand he tell her the truth, when something caught the corner of her eye. For the second time that day, she froze, hard shivers running through her body. She turned to face her mother fully, speak of the devil, and glared. She was at least a few yards away, but she knew, with the woman's perceptive eye, she had spotted her daughter, and the strange wizard behind her. Cleo gulped, and noticed Balthazar had turned as well. She knew what he saw was an exact copy of Cleo, save for being somewhat taller, and brown, scraggly hair, instead of the beautiful, flowing hair Cleo had. The younger stared, before pivoting towards Balthazar, who'd obviously recognize the vicious, horrible Morganian._

_"Run," she muttered, startling him. She didn't know what it was about Balthazar, but she wanted to save his life. She wanted to protect him. The Morganian inside of her wanted to stop him from running, to bring him to her mother, but the supposed Merlinean that ran through her veins wanted him to be safe. She wanted to learn more. But he wasn't budging, "Now," she hissed, and shoved him in the other direction. _

_"I'll find you," he promised earnestly, before hurrying off, casting her a backwards glance, before disappearing into the crowd. Cleo took a deep breath of relief, before turning towards her mother, surprised at how scared she'd been for the strange sorcerer._

_~X-X-X~_

Cleo woke with a terrifying start; her eyes snapped open, and she jumped up from the floor. She glanced around the room, trying to remember where she was, but her mind was fuzzy. She blinked a couple of times, trying to urge her headache away. The place she'd been sleeping was a dump; the wallpaper was water-stained and peeling, and the floor was covered with a nice layer of dust. She turned a wide circle, noticing the banged-up desk in the corner, and an old candle holder. It was then that she noticed her ring was no longer on her finger. Suddenly, a panic attack took hold of her. Her breathing grew rapid, and she patted herself down to look for the precious thing. For a moment, she thought she'd been kidnapped, that was, until she spotted a golden ring in the corner. She hurried over to it, relieved that it was in fact her ring, and squatted for a second. If she strained her ears, she could hear Balthazar and Dave arguing about something.

And then, just like that, she remembered. Balthazar had insisted upon training Dave, and they both convinced her to come. She'd been studying; it was then that she noticed her own Incantus on the floor next to where she'd woken up, and a wave of exhaustion had swept over her. She stretched, the worry leaving her, she was safe in the lab after all, and ran a hand through her tangled hair. She wasn't sure what scared her the most, though. That it'd taken this long to remember, or that she'd forgotten in the first place. Cleo shuddered, and bent down to retrieve her Incantus.

She made her way through the 'office' doors, and out into the open lab space. She'd long grown used to the tesla coils in her short stay here, but they still made her gape. They were so big, and the things that Dave could do with them—she was just amazed. Of course, she'd been that way with almost anything. The thing she loved about the room the most, however, was the giant Merlin Circle sitting directly in the middle of everything. When she'd first become Balthazar's apprentice, she'd always loved the Merlin Circle. Just the design, and everything about it simply fascinated her. And it made her want to learn more and more about it, and sorcerery, and everything not having to do with the Morganian ways.

Balthazar and Dave were in the center of the Merlin Circle, fighting, just as she and Balthazar had always done. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when she thought about it, but she knew she was being ridiculous. Dave was the Prime Merlinean, after all, and Balthazar was true enough to keep his word. He couldn't ever train her again. Not after he'd found a new apprentice. But at least that apprentice was the one that'd saved the world, and not only that, but she had to admit he was a pretty cool kid.

Cleo made herself clear by accidentally dropping the Incantus, and when she knelt down to pick it up, she heard Balthazar and Dave freeze in their tracks. She scoffed, "It's me, calm down."

"Cleo?" Dave was the first to recognize her voice. She stepped out of the shadows, smiled reassuringly at them both, and placed the oversized book on the nearest wobbly-legged table. "Oh, it is."

Balthazar rolled his eyes at Cleo's entrance, and turned back towards Dave, "Let's continue."

Just as Dave was about to say something, Cleo cut him off, "Is there any way I could help, Master, I'm deathly bored?"

Balthazar sighed exasperatedly, "No, there isn't much you can do," he paused and thought for a moment, "And besides, he's my apprentice. You're not qualified in any way to help. And I'm _not_ your _master_!"

"Balthazar, don't be ridiculous, I am a fully trained sorcerer, who's had lots of practice, and can do virtually anything. And, I used to be your apprentice, so you'd know how good I am at following," at this she paused, "_certain_ orders."

He scoffed, and glanced at Dave, "I think she should help," he piped up uncertainly.

"I hate it when the child chooses sides," Balthazar growled, his voice harsh and crisp.

Dave smiled weakly, "I just want to help, Balthazar, please," she gave him the sweetest, most innocent look she could manage without bursting out in laughter.

He gave a heavy sigh, "Fine," he grumbled, "You can help shoot plasma bolts at him."

Cleo's eyes lit up with delight, and she raced over to the two. She stood just outside the circle, opposite from Balthazar, so Dave would have to know if she was shooting a plasma bolt at him. She'd of course never intentionally hurt him, but she didn't have to tell Dave that, and she was sure Balthazar already knew. Maybe.

"Alrighty, Dave?" she called, and for the first time, he realized where she was. She could easily sent a plasma bolt at him, and kill him now. But he knew Cleo bet than that.

"Oh, great."

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><p><strong>AN: So, how was it? Please tell me in a review! It'd make my day! Thank you, and have a great day(:**

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><p>Greenwood Archer: Thank you very much for not only reviewing, but complimenting me as well ;) I understand it's confusing, but it will (if I do this right) all play out in the end to make sense. Thus the flashbacks and stuff to help you along. If you have any questions, feel free to send me an IM or tell me through review! I hope this is soon enough? ;)<p>

To anyone who read, reviewed, or simply glanced at this story: You are awesome!

xD


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoy this one... I worked hard on it, and sorry for the late update. I kinda got stuck... like alot. And it's not my best, but I hope you enjoy. Buon divertimento! :) Oh, and please check out the poll on my profile, and help me decide (by voting!) :)**

**~Bandit**

**KONY2012!**

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><p>Sorcerer's Pride<p>

Chapter 4

The dark silence hung around her, like a curtain, but despite the chill it brought, it only comforted her. Even with Balthazar sleeping in the next room, and Dave asleep on the couch in the living room, Cleo couldn't help but feel alone. She'd always been alone, since the time she'd moved to Tacoma, to the time she became Balthazar's apprentice, to now. She'd always been alone. There was no denying it.

She scribbled on an unused piece of paper that she'd found in her office, using the old flickering bedside lamp that she'd scoured out from a garage sale a couple of months back, and had grown rather found of. She was biting her lip, trying to figure something out from her Incantus. The musty, torn pages were flipped to one section: The Healing Section. One pale finger was tracing the smeared words, while the other held a pen. She mouthed the words as she read, anger growing inside her.

"Hëalíteïmü§ (Hay-lee-to-ah-my-ice): Reduces inflammation of skin and pain of scar tissue. Side effects are stinging, nausea, and inability to breathe," she grumbled, her voice growing louder, "Sçærfînd (Sh-uh-ra-fa-oh-ind): Eliminates appearance of bruises, scars, cuts, and gashes. Side effects are lung pain, yellowing of skin, bloody noses, and welts on the face."

She sucked in a deep breath, held a hand to the bridge of her nose, only to let her head flop down in agony. The Incantus was utterly no help to her. How was she supposed to do anything now that it did absolutely nothing? The Incantus was her sole source of information. She was stopped in the middle of her quiet ranting, by the not-so-quiet sounds of Balthazar snoring. She smiled, at first a little annoyed, but otherwise glad he was at least sleeping. It was a big jump from yesterday. She looked back down at the large book.

"Stufirepinçure (Stu-fire-pin-sh-uh-are): Eliminates any breakage of skin, and/or any blemishes of skin. Side effects are muscle cramping and trouble of breathing. May not work, or may only work for a short period of time," at this she growled, and slammed her book shut, a loud crack in the night air, only to wince. She listened for a second, complete and utter silence filling her ears, before she heard what she was listening for; Balthazar was snoring again. She breathed out a sigh of relief, and was about to open her Incantus again, no matter how useless it seemed, when she heard a scuffling about in the living room.

She knew it was Dave, who'd probably woken when she'd closed her book in her rage, and should probably let it go. But something told her to go look, and she sighed. For all she knew, he was getting silently attacked by Septimus, who had an awful hobby of silent attacks. She rubbed her ring, picked up her Incantus, and turned the light off. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, and once she did, she was already halfway down the hall. By the time she finally turned, she was met with the sight of Dave crouched over on the couch, using his cell phone as a light, and reading his own Incantus. He looked calmly up at her when she arrived, he'd obviously heard her coming, and smiled.

"Something wrong?" Cleo cocked her head as she spoke.

"Nope," he looked back down, searching the pages in the exact manner she'd been doing moments before.

"I don't think it's going to help," she grinned at the look he gave her, "Mine's proved futile so far."

She set the oversized book on the table next to the couch, and plopped down next to him, "I'm just confused on some things," he sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I can help you with that," she replied, straining her eyes to look at the page in the dim light, "You're studying elements?"

"Yeah, that's what Balthazar was training me on. At least, for most of it. Right before you came in, he decided I needed more help defending."

"You only worked on Fire and Air, didn't you?" she muttered, looking up at his focused expression.

The look quickly turned into surprise, and then awe, "How'd you know?"

Cleo snorted, "It's obvious—no offense—but, Fire and Air are offensive elements, Earth and Water are defensive. Of course, they can be switched around, but those are their strongest suit."

"Huh," Dave scanned his Incantus again, "Balthazar never told me that."

Cleo raised her eyebrows, "I think he expected you to know that. You should study and train more. I bet you'll get a lot farther in your lessons if you do," she gave him a wink.

"You're such a teacher's pet," he scoffed playfully. Cleo laughed.

"Only because it gets strong people, A.K.A teachers, on my side," she smiled, "And besides, this is about you. Not me, Dave."

"Alright, help me then. I can't seem to understand the summoning of the elements," he paused, glancing around the dark apartment, "It's all confusing. I just can't seem to… get it to work."

"Well," Cleo pursed her lips, "We'll start with air. You know the first step, clear you mind."

"Yes, I know the first step, Balthazar only pesters me about it day and night," Dave groaned, exasperated. This earned a laugh from Cleo.

"That's because it's the most important," a smile graced her lips, "Especially in this element. In order to either control air, or summon it, you need to take the whole 'clear you mind' thing to the next level."

"How do I do that, though?" he snapped, his eyes puzzled, and his brain turning. Why, couldn't he understand.

"Alright, take it like this. When you fall asleep, what do you do? Do you clear your mind, so you can have a peaceful sleep, or do you fill your mind with bad thoughts, so you have nightmares? The normal person clears their mind, and therefore that is what you must do," she mumbled, "Close your eyes, Dave."

He obeyed, "And know listen to only my voice. Block out anything around us, I don't care what it is. Focus on one thing—the sky. And my voice, of course," she took a deep breath, and then continued, "Let your mind fall to peace, let your thoughts blow away. Think of nothing. Think nothing. Just let yourself drift away. There you go."

She closed her eyes as well, the presence of his power washing over her. She grinned, "And now, open your eyes. But don't let that feeling escape. Use it. Attack me," she watched as he slowly came back to the real world, yet his eyes remanded clouded. "Attack me, Dave. Don't think about it. Attack me."

She clambered off the couch, and watched as he mimicked her actions, so they were facing each other. He raised his hands, pointing that silly dragon ring at her, and pulled back, and then forth, as if controlling a whip. Cleo liked his style. And then a huge, powerful, probably painful, gust of wind flew in her direction. She'd prepared of course, and had set up a shield to protect herself, but the mere power of the air had knocked her down.

"Oh God, are you okay?" he rushed over to her, only to find her laughing, her green eyes twinkling with delight. He quickly helped her off the apartment floor. She dusted herself off, before placing her hands on his shoulders, and grinning.

"That was amazing, Dave," she congratulated him, "I put up a shield, so it didn't hurt me, but the aura of it knocked me down. That was amazing."

Dave flushed. Cleo knew Balthazar never gave praises like this, and she knew after this quick lesson he'd probably never hear another like it. "Thanks, but I kinda just let you control me."

Cleo refrained from rolling her eyes, and instead smirked, before composing herself, "Now, fire is a whole different thing all together. Fire is a chaotic element, whereas Air is good. In this one, you don't have to think at all. You have to handle it in steps."

A look of confusion passed over the kid's face, and Cleo groaned, "How do I do that?" she should've known this was going to happen. He didn't understand magical speak. He understood science.

"Alright, I'm not a science master, but take the Fire element as though it were the Scientific Method," a flicker of understanding flashed in his eyes, and hope swelled through her, "You don't take the whole thing at once do you?"

"No, you do the Scientific Method in steps," Dave scowled as though this were the most obvious thing on the face of the planet.

"Exactly," she smiled, "That is what you must do for the Fire element. Alright, prepare yourself. What is the first step of the Scientific Method?"

"Define a question," Dave answered instantly. Cleo knew this was going to be good.

She nodded, "Yes. In this Scientific Method, you say Define a question. In Magical terms, we say 'Picture a Flame.'"

"Picture a flame?"

She nodded again, "Yes, do it. Go ahead. Picture the brightest, most horrible looking flame out there. Very good. And second?"

He obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut, "Gather information and resources."

"Instead of gathering information and resources, we are gathering heat," she chose her words carefully, trying her best to teach the kid. It was midnight after all, "What makes you the most angry? Picture it, think of a scene, but always keep that flame there. Always."

Dave's excited expression contorted to one of disturbance. His nose scrunched up, and his eyes were moving about under his eye lids. Cleo sighed, "Nicely done. Third?"

"Form an explanatory hypothesis," his voice was strained as he continued to conjure the element.

"You have to imagine what you're going to do," Dave scowled, "In this instance, you're going to attack me. I'm going to block, but picture hitting me down with a ball of fire. Go ahead. Fourth?"

This time she didn't wait to see if he had reacted to her words, she kept on going. Fire could not be rushed, but it couldn't be slowed down either, "Test the hypothesis by performing an experiment and collecting data."

"Yes, now here comes the tricky part. Put your hands together, as if forming a plasma ball, but don't. I realize you've worked with fire before, controlling it, and that's the hardest part of forming it, so I'm sure you'll have no problem with this. Keep it there, keep imagining everything I've told you. That's good," she praised him lightly, knowing he had to keep his sour mood. She gave an inaudible sigh. "Fifth?"

"Analyze the data," she had to admit he looked quite ridiculous standing in the middle of an apartment at twelve in the morning, his face filled with anger, and his eyes squeezed shut, but she didn't say anything, for fear he might actually lob out an un-produced fire ball. She shuddered at the thought.

"Rub your hands together," she shrugged. It was the simplest step, but it played a huge part. You couldn't make fire without warmth, or friction. And therefore that is what he had to do, "I'm not kidding you, Dave. Rub your hands together."

He finally obeyed, but not without making Cleo feel as though he thought this was pointless. She sneered at him, "The sixth is Interpret the data and draw conclusions, before you ask."

The kid was catching on, "Alright, now what do you think of when you first hear fire?"

"Anger," he replied almost instantly.

She grinned, "Good. This won't be a problem for you then. Alright, who's the person you hate most. At the moment."

"Balthazar," her grin widened. Good lord, this child was so predictable.

"Tell me why. Rant about him," in all honesty, she tuned out, and continued to think of the next step. Step seven: Publish results. She pursed her lips. "Now," she cut him off midsentence, "Open your eyes, and forget everything I told you. Clear your mind, as if summoning air. There you go."

"Already on another step?" he snapped, his eyes blazing.

"Release all your anger, Dave. This won't work without you cooperating, and we'd hate for all that hard work to go to waste, wouldn't we?"

He nodded, and closed his eyes, before snapping them open, much more composed, "Step eight, Retest."

She smiled, "Now, think back on all we've done. This is the last step. Imagine it all at once, and thrust your hands towards your opponent."

He obeyed, and suddenly, before she knew it, a huge arc of fire was racing towards her. She managed to get a water wall up before it did any damage, but she was pleased. She raised her eyebrows, "I don't see how you were having any trouble earlier, when you're doing so amazing now."

He once again blushed, and smiled at her, "Because you're a much better explainer than Balthazar."

"That's why you were mad?" Dave sat down at the couch, pushing his Incantus out of the way. "I mean, when you were summoning fire?"

"Partly. It seems sometimes, he's just here to make my life a living hell," Dave sighed, and patted the seat beside him, "He just always gets on my nerves. It's like he expects me to get it everytime."

Cleo laughed lightly, "That'd be because he was partly used to me," her eyes dimmed, "Don't you _ever_ take him for granted. He has such a sweet heart. And he always wants the best for you."

Dave took in her words, his eyes searching, before he once again thumped the seat next to her, welcoming her to sit next to him, but this time she obliged, smirking at him, as if daring him to say something, "Alright, I've told you about my troubles. Now, tell me more about your past."

"Why are you so interested in me?" she folded her hands in her lap, "Some people'd think you're obsessed."

"I'm interested in you, because you're an _interesting_ person," he smiled, before letting it quickly fade away, as all fake smiles did.

"Well, you need to stop," she paused, and thought for a moment, "What do you want to know more about?"

"Your past," he fiddled with his hands, before looking up and meeting her dark, hazel eyes. "Please?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "Your 'please' won't change my mind any. As far as I know, you say please all the time," she sighed, "But I guess I'll tell you anyways."

A look of triumph passed over the college-student's face, and Cleo couldn't help but laugh, "Where we left off in this story, I'm only telling it once, Balthazar came back to Tacoma, where I lived, and offered for me to become his apprentice. He then ran away when my mother came, but for weeks at a time, we were training in secret. I guess I wanted to know more about the Prime Merlinean stuff. So I agreed with him. This is around one of our last meetings on the run."

_-:-_

_A cool wind whistled through the town, picking up papers, and causing thousands of people to shudder, yet when it reached a pitiful look warehouse, with the doors slightly cracked open, and the windows broken in, and flew inside, neither of it occupants so much as flinched. The girl had just arrived through the moldy doorframe, her long red hair wild, but with much of it covering her face, but the man had been there for a while. He had nothing better to do then teach his brilliant student, and therefore he waited, in hopes that Cleo would come early, but to no avail, because he knew of her reason of barely being able to anyways. Her mother would not appreciate him teaching her the art of light sorcerery, as opposed to the Morganian ways._

_She stepped into the light, and searched for her master, barely being able to see through her thick curtain of hair. Though, it did give her a sense of protection, but not as much as being around Balthazar. She'd found she'd grown on the man, no matter how strange he was, but she still couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust anyone. Would she risk her life for him? Her life wasn't worth much, so she considered it an option. And finally, he stepped from the shadows, and into the middle. _

_Cleo's breath caught in her throat, seeing him. She always did this, every week, when she was able to escape from her wretched house. He'd cut his hair a couple of weeks ago, so it looked neat, and rather handsome, but she could never grow used to this. She was used to a wild man, with crazy eyes, which he still possessed, thankfully, and scraggly hair. But, she knew he was doing this for a reason. She could tell he wanted to travel. He wanted to get out of Tacoma, where thousands of Morganians lived. She sighed inaudibly. _

_He met her brown eyes, causing her to shiver at her piercing stare. Sometimes she really hated those icy orbs, "Are you ready to train today, Cleo?" he strode forward towards her, before motioning towards the Merlin Circle behind him._

_"When am I not ready?" she smirked, slipping the ring onto her finger. She had to sneak around her mother; she couldn't let her know she was training to be a Merlinean, and therefore, even if she didn't want to, she was forced to hide her ring, and wear the evil ones her mom provided. She'd been taught the skill of Adapting, and was able to use any ring given, but her powers were strongest with the Prime Merlinean's ring. _

_"Let's get going then," he led her towards the circle, his touch gentle. As soon as she was facing him, he took one large, sweeping look of the girl, "You should change your hairstyle."_

_She knew he was referring to her bangs; she could barely see, but it gave her a sense of protection, "I'm not like you, I don't have to change who I am every other day."_

_She sneered, meaning to hurt him, but knowing she didn't anyways, "I did it, because I have to leave soon, and I can't keep who I was. You'd look a lot prettier without it."_

_"Are you saying I'm not pretty?" she snapped harshly, her eyes flashing with fire._

_"No, you're always beautiful. Let's start training," she could tell he wanted to back out of the argument, that he was regretting starting it in the first place, but she couldn't let that happen. She had to win._

_"You can't decide who I am, and you can't decide what I do. Even if you're my master, I don't care. You don't have control of me," she was speaking harshly, but it didn't bother her as much as it should._

_Balthazar's gaze softened as he regarded her, "Something's going on at home, huh?"_

_"Yeah, things have been bad," she looked away, suddenly ashamed. No matter what, she shouldn't treat him like that. She should respect him as much she could, he deserved that much. She owed him big time for taking her in, "I just—she's been extra horrible. I guess I'm trying to resist her now, trying to do less Morganian work, but she doesn't appreciate that much. My mom, I mean, though she doesn't seem like one."_

_"She's still trying to get you to become her apprentice?" he placed a tender hand on her shoulder, his expression one of absolute concern._

_"Yeah, she wants to have complete control over me. She wants to teach me everything she knows, as if I would actually listen to her," she scowled and rolled her eyes, "I hate her methods more than anything."_

_"I remember a time," Balthazar gave a heavy sigh, "When you used to love her methods; you worshipped the ground she walked on, clung onto every word of hers. You used to listen, and you use to obey every task she sent you off to do. You'd do anything for your mother."_

_Cleo took a sudden interest in her feet, trying to focus on anything but Balthazar. Guilt washed through her like a wave, causing her stomach to flutter, her mouth to go dry, and her heart to skip a beat, "I was foolish… younger back then," she risked looking up to meet his gaze, "I know better now."_

_He shot her an incredulous look, "That was five years ago, you were fifteen."_

_"I'm thirteen now, there was no possible way I was fifteen. I was eight, and you know that," she snorted, thinking she'd finally gotten the better of him._

_"You were eight in all but mind," he retorted, giving her a stern look, "You were much wiser than fifteen, consider it generous," he winked at her._

_She looked away, before being reminded of something, "I haven't been aging," he sent her a questioning look, "The aging spell. It's not working anymore. My mom's noticed, because it's still working for her."_

_"Ah," Balthazar gave a wan smile, his eyes lighted with joy, "You've been hanging around me. Since the Slow-Aging spell is dark, Morganian magic, my light magic has been throwing it off. And you've been shooting lighter spells. I think you're confusing it."_

_"Master, 'it' is a spell," she replied stubbornly, "I don't think I'm confusing anything."_

_"So you're saying it's my fault?" _

_"I'm glad it's your fault," she smiled, "Let's just hope I don't catch up to my mother by next week, hmm?"_

_She got into a training stance, signaling that Balthazar should start his teaching. He got her into the position of having a shield, and shooting three plasma balls at once while protecting. He was just about to lob out his own at her, when a powerful sound rang through the warehouse. They both whirled around to glance at the doorway, only to be met with a few rough, strongly built men. _

_"Morganians," Balthazar muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing with distaste._

_"Yeah, but who do they work for?" she hurriedly whispered back, moving towards Balthazar._

_Suddenly, the men were upon them, four on Balthazar, three on Cleo. She struggled, before letting her hands erupt into flames, causing one of the men to cry out in agony. The rest of the trio moved towards her, "Does it matter who they work for?" Balthazar cried out from the opposite side of the warehouse. He looked like he was having fun getting pummeled, "They're here to kill us no matter what!"_

_She gave him a nod, and continued to fight, her mouth shut tightly closed in frustration. She kicked one of the men in the shine, before shooting a round of plasma balls at him. They were obviously sorcerer's, she could tell, but she couldn't why they weren't using their magic. They were here to kill them, weren't they? No matter what ran through her head, Cleo continued to fight against them. Things were started to finally look good, she'd actually gotten one of them knocked out, when a sharp crack rang through the air, and the men were using magic. Spells streamed through the warehouse like banners, Cleo tried her best to dodge and block them._

_She heard a strangled cry, and spun around, ignoring the two men advancing on her, to notice the men attacking Balthazar holding him back, their large hands resting on his shoulders. She winced, before noticing the other man, an even larger one, with a knife in hand, going in for the kill. Just as Cleo felt the men grab her from behind, the large Morganian with the knife lunged towards her master._

_-:-_

Cleo faltered as she tried to continue the story, looking down at her hands, which she was kneading together nervously. She could feel Dave's eyes burning into her, urging her to go one. As if he didn't already know how it ends. Balthazar obviously survives, Cleo smirked to herself. "Well?" Dave demanded, on the edge of his seat, "What happens next?"

The redhead ran a hand through her head, and opened her mouth to speak, "She saved my life," they both whirled around on their seat of the couch to be met with the sight of Balthazar, who was leaning casually against the corner of the wall, fully dressed, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked at them both calmly. Cleo instantly blushed, rolling her eyes.

"It was nothing. I just kinda… got him. It wouldn't be the only time, now would it?" this earned a snort from Balthazar, who just laughed, "You would've done the same for me."

"Well, I was your Master, it was kinda required of me," he gave her a wry look.

"Yeah, and I was your apprentice, so _that_ was required of me," she grinned at him, before giving him an admiring look, "Stop trying to make me something I'm not."

"Well, what happened after that?" Dave directed the question more to Balthazar, but Cleo was the one who answered.

"We got the hell out of them," she gave a small chuckle, "We sprinted towards the train, and never looked back. We killed two out of the seven. We didn't want to look back either. I was scared of what I would find. I was scared it was… my mother. So we boarded the train, and we rode towards Maine."

"That's a long ways away from _Washington_," Dave raised his eyebrows at her. She smirked.

"Very good, Davey knows his states," she grinned, "Don't get me wrong it took a couple of days. I specifically chose Maine because it wasn't highly populated, and Balthazar had lived there once; he had contacts. So we kinda went there."

"And then?" Dave beamed at them both, excited to hear what came next in the story. He was like a little child about ready for bed, Cleo mused.

"Well, I ended up cutting my hair. Balthazar made me, so I could see. He said it was like I was dark before…and I was slowly turning light; good. At least that's how you explained it to me, huh, Balthazar?" she nudged him, and he slowly nodded. "We lived there for quite some time, and I never heard about my mom again… until the last couple of years, where I heard that some Morganian named Septimus Tovaire had killed her. And was coming after me."

"Story time's over," Balthazar winked at her, and she nodded in agreement. She stood, painfully, and stretched, before padding over to Dave.

"I now deem this couch yours," she smiled, "I think you should stay here from now on. I'm scared of what Septimus will do once he finds out you're here."

"But I gotta get home to Bennett," Dave protested meekly.

"I'm sure Bennett will be fine," Cleo winked at him, "And besides, you'll still be going to college in the mornings."

Dave didn't try to protest any more, at the look Balthazar shot him, "But, Cleo!" he called out once more as she turned to walk away, "Where will you sleep?"

Cleo smirked, so Dave couldn't see her, "My office chair. It's comfier then you'd expect."

As Balthazar and Cleo headed down the hall, she turned towards him, "Why dressed in your regular clothes?"

"Because," he gave her a grin as he opened the bedroom door, "I wasn't originally planning on going to sleep."

"Kinda failed at that, huh?"

**-:-**

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the horrible ending, I had to get this out there before you all stormed my house with pitchforks. I have great things planned for this story... great things. Oh, and expect two (not one, but two) 'flashback/memory' thingies. I have to fit all this stuff in a chapter, and it's gonna be tough ;)**

**Please review, it keeps the writer's block at bay, and it feeds my muse, Andrew. We don't want Andrew to go hungry, do we? Thanks for your time :)**

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><p>iLikeHetalia: Thank you, I obviously don't want my stories to be confusing ;) Thank you so much for reviewing, it makes me soooo happy! Yes, yes I do 'love' Sherlock Holmes. I even wrote a fanfiction on it... and I loved the second movie... I could go on and on and on about the ending, but I won't bore you with that! :)<p>

Greenwood Archer: Thanks! *Blushes* You're so sweet... I hope this one lives up to the expectations of the last three? I know how you feel about the teacher thing, mine are doing the same ;) And sorry for not updating very soon, life caught up to me.

anon: I know, haha, I was just trying to make Cleo tease Dave a little bit :)

thebestfriend.3: Oh geez, girl, thanks. You're making me blush and stuff... stop it!

Kirsten: Thank you... and here you go! :)

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING AND READING! YOU ALL DESERVE SOME CANDY! (And requests, haha?)


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